


His artist, his lover, his obsession

by SweetAlphaChild



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banging is art, Blow Jobs, Gay Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Table Sex, This Obito is a tad more dominant than my usual Obito, Voyeur Obito, mild stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-04-30 16:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14501400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetAlphaChild/pseuds/SweetAlphaChild
Summary: Basically Obito banging senpai on his workshop table.





	His artist, his lover, his obsession

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing too deep in here save Obito getting 19 cm deep inside Deidara's bomb-proof ass.

Obito Uchiha, also known as Tobi, couldn't stop thinking about Deidara.  
  
Not for a single damn second.  
  
He had never been so obsessed with someone before, and the more he tried to stop that madness, the worse he failed. It was as if all those dirty thoughts about him had filled the space within himself where there was nothing but hatred, while in his subconscious mind, erotic dreams with him as protagonist had replaced what once used to be nightmares.  
  
Often he reckoned that something wasn't quite right about that craving, but maybe it was too late for his damaged mind to fix it. Besides, Deidara wasn't the most suitable person to feel something for. He was a time bomb. Odds were, that the story would end up repeating itself. But that was not the point; the point was that it had happened and trying to stop those impulses that dominated him with unprecedented violence was an action completely out of his will and determination. He liked to comfort himself thinking that one matched the other quite well, in a messed up way. Both intense, both reckless. One yearning for recognition, the other willing to give as much as he can take.

He felt like a pervert when he secretly spied on him. Sometimes he did it while he slept, to memorize his unconscious gestures and expressions, and while he was at his workshop, when Deidara believed he was alone, to study his behaviour. It wasn't right, but analyzing his situation, few things he had done in recent years were. Did it matter to add one more to the list, especially one as rewarding as that?

Looking through the keyhole, he could see Deidara work on what would possibly be a new design for his C1 technique collection. His workshop always smelled of the earthy, caustic and slightly sulphuric aroma of explosive clay, which reminded him a little of the smell of pepper. He had learned to associate it with him. It drove him crazy. Every time he was under him on the futon, their bodies connected in the most intimate way of all, and his smell mingled with that of sweat and pheromones he felt as if that need of him would never be satiated, no matter what he did.

Suddenly, Deidara frowned and squeezed in his fist whatever he was doing. He noticed that the consistency of the clay was different from the usual. It was runnier, as if it had melted a bit. The white material escaped from between his fingers, a few drops of it sliding down his wrist and arm. For a moment, he looked away from that unforeseen vision. Maybe he was losing his mind, but he was seeing erotic connotations in the gesture. The clay ceased to be clay in his head to become something else, his imagination going wild at the prospect of all the things he could be doing to him.

"Damn it... Why are you doing this to me?" he mumbled, a hot tickle running through his body.

His black sweater was starting to bother him, making him feel slightly suffocated. No one else in his whole life had ever had that effect on him. Not like that. And the only thing he had to do to achieve it, was to squeeze some clay. One of the white drops was already reaching his elbow. Deidara stared at it, annoyed.

"I'll have to let it dry a bit more, stupid rain!" he said to himself.

Then he reached down to grab a heavy plastic box full of clay and leave it on the table, after which he went to wash himself in the sink. He wore his sleevless net T-shirt under the short sleeved tiny blue one, which left his waist uncovered. While he was washing his arm, Tobi's gaze moved to his perfectly shaped bottom. That one he had so often caressed, squeezed, bitten and licked. That one he never seemed to get enough of.

The unsuspecting artist spun around again, drying himself with a towel and throwing it nonchalantly on the work table before taking a bottle of water and give it a few sips. The stituation was starting to get ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Deidara was only drinking... Just drinking... But seeing his lips pressed on the bottle, eyes closed, a triclke of water running down the corner of his mouth, dripping down to his T-shirt made his damned imagination run wild again. The bottle wasn't a bottle anymore, but something else. He had wanted to avoid that, after all, he had just planned to spy on him a little. He never thought Deidara's sensuality would turn a natural gesture into something obscene in his head. Below, tucked into his underwear, something woke up.

"You traitor..." he whispered, looking down at the already noticeable lump.

Not even his own body was loyal to him.

And the worst thing was, that Deidara was there minding his own business, oblivious to what was happening behind his workshop door, and he was on the other side suffering, unable to control his own reactions. Deidara resumed his tasks as if nothing, while he wasn't even able to walk normally due to his raised flag. He was now fanning himself with a piece of cardboard, leaning on the table, strands of blonde hair waving in the air, bringing him memories...

He wasn't controlling his actions completely when he pushed the door, slamming it noisily against the wall. Deidara gasped in surprise.

"Tobi...? How dare you break in here like you own the damn place, hm!?" he shouted, as Tobi walked toward him.

Obito imprissioned him against the wall. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of his features, as he rubbed a gloved thumb through the smooth skin of his cheeks.

"Did you really come for this, you horny idiot!? Can't you wait until I'm done for the day!?" he said, pushing him back.

Said action only made Tobi to press himself closer to his body, nudging him with his hips so the other would notice the erection he had unknowingly caused.

"No."

Being challenged to blatantly gave his gaze a threatening glow. He used his left hand to bite the side of his body while pushing him again, a punishment that Obito endured without even flinching. Seeing that his plan proved unsuccessful, Deidara lowered his hand to his partner's crotch, its mouth wide open his teeth pressing his erection, soft but dangerously.

"I'm going to do it" he whispered, a smug look on his face, as if he were about to win the game.

"I'd think about it twice if I was you" Obito whispered, activating his Mangekyo Sharingan to turn intangible from the waist down.

His teeth closed around air, confusing Deidara, whose hatred for that technique was more than known. Obito took advantage of his brief bewilderment to hold his wrists on top of his head with one hand, so as not to give him the chance to bite him again.

"I told you not to use your fucking Uchiha techniques on me if you appreciate your life, Tobi," he muttered, suppressing his rage. "Do not test me. Don't piss me off more than I alr-"

"You talk too much," he cut him off.

He tucked his free hand under his shirt to pinch and twist a nipple, the way he knew he liked it most. He wanted to lick it, and taste it, suck it until it was purple, but for that he would have to take off his mask, and both hands were busy.

"Nggh..." Deidara tried to suppress that moan, but he didn't succeed, his arms rebelled against his grip. But it was useless.

He was certain Deidara had already changed his mind. Both were certain.

"You sound so sensual, senpai," he whispered, bringing his face close to his face.

"You're brave. Coming here to my very workshop like you own it, hm," he said in a defiant tone of voice.

"But you belong to me, and I'll come here whenever I want, no matter what you're doing, my artist..."

He stopped pinching him to take off his mask and drop it on the floor, he then pulled up Deidara's shirt until his chest was exposed. He stopped for a moment to admire his body, slender but toned, before lowering his head and taking between his lips the nipple covered by the tattoo that sealed his most deadly technique. The sensitive skin of the areola hardened at the contact with the wetness of his tongue, while Deidara was still determined to suppress his gasps of pleasure, struggling more and more with every passing second. His free hand went to the unattended nipple, tracing gentle circles, managing to catch Deidara by surprise when he decided to pinch on one side and bite on the other, only to return to the previous treatment, soft and delicate.

He looked up, only to see that Deidara's eyes were closed and his face flushed, focused on regaining his lost composure. His dick twitched every time he heard him pant, making evident the huge and growing need he felt for him.

"I don't think you'd like me to leave now," he said to annoy him.

"Shut up, hm!"

He slowly lowered his hand, running down his abdomen, past the elastic of his trousers until it was placed between his legs, to find an erection he knew was hiding there.

"I'm right after all," he cooed, tracing the outline of his arousal with one finger.

"S-shut up!"

But even when he was holding him against the ropes, Obito didn't feel one hundred percent in control. He knew that a single blink of that ridiculously sensual artist was enough to have him worried about his sanity. And Deidara knew it well, too well... In an instant he had changed his strategy, from rebelling to moaning as obscenely as possible every time the finger went up and down his cock, looking him in the eyes, moistening the lips.

"Let's remove this. It bothers me, "Obito said as he took off Deidara's shirt.

He released his hands, to be able to undress him, he was almost sure he would no longer fight back. Deidara was unpredictable. He would have ripped his clothes off, but that fishnet t-shirt suited him too damn good, the sight of his waist covered in it was one to behold. His black sweater, however, was easily replaceable. After getting rid of his gloves, he yanked it off without taking off his Akatsuki's tunic. Then he grabbed the artist's buttocks with both hands and lifted him up.

"What are you doing!?"

"I'm gonna make love to you on top of your workshop table, where you create your art, senpai" Obito explained, his voice calm.

But there was no space, the top of the table was covered in small tools, papers with sketches and remains of clay. Using his arm, he pushed everything in his way to make room for Deidara.

"Hey, have more respect for my stuff! How dare you treat it like that, hm!?" He cried, as Obito placed him on top of a paper full of sketched, which had been glued to the table.

Obito ignored him, too busy kissing his newly discovered abdomen, so lost in his touch and his alluring smell that he didn't see Deidara had dipped his hand in the clay basin until said hand slided down his chest, leaving on it a huge white stain.

"If you keep misbehaving, I will make you explode," he whispered, a wicked smile on his face.

Obito couldn't help but smile back, proud to keep the upper hand despite Deidara's efforts. He reached for the plastic basin and grabbed of that semi-liquid clay. Seeing what was going to happen, Deidara kicked and twisted trying to escape, but he had him pinned down on the table. He left a stain shaped like his hand from Deidara's neck to his navel.

"We'll explode together, then," he whispered in a low voice, dropping the tunic to the floor and resting his knee on the table to get on it.

Deidara leaned back, giving another push to his stuff to make more room, less concerned about it than before. The only thing he wanted now was to give some fight to his insolent partner who was crawling over him at those moments to crash his lips against his in a demanding, passionate and wild kiss. Meanwhile, their hands roamed the body of the other, leaving white prints stamped on their faces, arms and even on their hair. Obito didn't want to end up too dirty. He wanted to lick the artist from top to bottom, getting lost in his taste and smell to which he was addicted, but with his body covered in explosive clay, that idea was definitely ruled out. However, he was liking this new approach. He concentrated instead in the touch of his perfect skin, as well as that of Deidara's hands through his body, soft and warm as they wallowed on the wide work table, covered in clay which betrayed the places they had already touched, each caress stoking the fire more and more.

They heard the noise of something falling over and breaking, probably, but neither of them cared. Obito won the brief skirmish, standing over him and intertwining his fingers with Deidara's to pin him down. They looked at each other, his senpai had white finger marks in one cheek and another small spot on the tip of his nose.

"You should see yourself," Obito whispered, Deidara laughed..

"You should see yourself," he replied, arching upward to rub his erection against his. "You're making a mess here, so I expect a good compensation, hm."

In response, Obito rubbed his erection against his even more energetically, making him moan. It was the only thing he could do without ending up even dirtier. Although it wasn't like he cared that much, given the fact that he was already covered.

"I'm going to compensate you so well," Obito cooed, taking off his pants and underwear at the same time. "... so, so, so well... that you're going to get hard every time you're here working and you remember what I did to you."

After taking care of his clothes, he did the same with those Deidara, who decided to collaborate instead of making things more difficult.

"And I hope it's not all talk," Deidara said, once naked.

He straightened up in front of him, parting his legs as Obito took a few seconds to look him up and down, with a smile. He wanted to remember that vision forever, his senpai on his own work table, his body marked, his look expectant, demanding more. Was this how Deidara felt every time he created art?

"Do you want this, senpai? Do you want it deep inside you?" He whispered, stroking his own arousal which was starting to leak some precum in anticipation. He loved to tempt him like that.

Deidara changed his position, both were now on their knees. He used his left hand to lick his right one clean.

"If you had warned me that you were going to storm in here wanting to fuck me on top of my own table, I would have prepared myself better. This is your fault, you horny fuck, hm."

As he spoke, Obito encircled Deidara's body with one arm, pulling him closer. Deidara reached to grab the tip of his dick, tongue curled around it, lapping the slit with greed. Obito felt himself weakening, dragged away by a tingle of warm pleasure, struggling between letting him do and fulfilling his previous statement. But if he had something in mind, all his willpower left him at once when Deidara went on all fours to take his dick between his wet lips.

"Dei... mnnnnh... dara-senpai."

He fought the need to gasp, without success. It felt too good to have his cock inside his scalding mouth. His eyelids fell from pure pleasure created by the soft touch of his tongue alternating with deeper sucks. He forced himself to open his eyes again, only to see how the full length of his arousal was disappearing, entering his mouth, colliding with roof of it only to move on to his throat. How could he take all that without choking? He didn't know, but Deidara's mouth knew too well how to make him come undone.

Each movement back and forth was a direct blow to his plans to claim him right there, until at the end, while his hand was lost in those golden strands of hair watching as Deidara stroked the base of his dick and tortured the upper half with his tongue and lips, he thought he wouldn't mind coming in his mouth until his balls were empty. To watch him swallow until the last drop...

He cursed, gasping. Deidara slowed down for a moment to outline a faint smirk. He could already feel his stomach contracting from the pleasurable coil that grew tighter and tighter.

He had to gather all his willpower to turn the tables and push him away. His senpai would enjoy himself as never before in his own workshop. While his breathing calmed down and the almost overflowing sensations he still felt in his stomach went away, he grabbed Deidara's shoulders to push him around, back on all fours. His apetizing ass was exposed now, just for him. The greatest work of art that table had ever seen, he thought. He kneaded his buttocks with both hands, imagining that he was now the artist, embodying his creativity on the canvas, small remnants of dried clay sticking to him, on top of the reddened paths that the pressure exerted with his fingers left behind.

Unable to help it any longer, he leaned over Deidara to press his buttocks against each other and leave several kisses on them before opening his mouth wide and taking a portion of skin between his lips, brushing it with his teeth without actually biting. He repeated the action several times, imagining that he was devouring that ass in front of him, the slight spicy nuance of explosive clay only succeeded in arousing him further.

"Yes... I like that, mmm... Keep doing it.

But Obito couldn't do it for too long, otherwise, the saliva that coated his dick would dry up. He couldn't please his lover in what he asked. But he was sure that what he was about to do would please him even more. Obito saved some saliva in his mouth, then he separated his buttocks again and spat on Deidara's rear entrance, using his thumb to extend it better. Then he leaned closer and brushed it with his tongue.

"Ahh... Tobi! What the hell... you Uchiha bastard!?" Deidara shouted.

But despite his complaints, the moans that followed later told Obito he was doing more than good. So he kept licking that rosy ring of muscles, sometimes from top to bottom, sometimes in circles, changing speed and listening to Deidara's reactions, moans that were almost screams, mixed with profanity.

"Mmmhh... more!" Deidara complained when he stopped.

Obito spat on his thumb and pushed it into Deidara. He should hurry up. His artist grunted at the intrusion, and right after that, his finger went directly to touch a sensitive spot. He saw him arch his back, his arms almost unable to keep holding his body. To make it up for him, he ran his tongue over his buttocks and thighs, kissing them, nipping at them. He pulled his finger again, after moving it in circles for a while, using more saliva to put the index and middle finger together. Obito's need to see his dick disappear past that hole, was so strong that he went quicker, stretching him clumsily, as best as his own urges allowed him to do it. He added a third finger a while later, he could't wait any longer.

"Turn around... I want to see your face while we make love," he commanded.

To his surprise, Deidara obeyed without question. He lied back on the table, resting his ankles on Obito's shoulders to expose his ass to him, eager to take his dick in.

"For now you are fulfilling what you stated earlier, hm," Deidara said, shameless.

Holding his gaze, with a defiant smile, Obito finally connected his arousal with his back entrance.

"I'm going to make you remember this day forever... mmmhhh," he said, pushing in at last. "You'll feel the urgent need to jerk off every time you're here and this day comes back to your mind... ahh... s-senpai..."

Obito almost lost his last strand of sanity when he felt Deidara contracting around him while throwing his head back, exposing his clay-stained neck to him. He pulled out of him, before pushing back in, with a single blow that made them both moan.

"Look what you do to me," whispered Obito, gentleness already forgotten despite his attempts, like so many other times. "You drive me mad... So mad..."

How did it happen? He wondered sometimes, feeling light headed at the thought of being involved in something he never thought he would. At first, only at the beginning, he also wondered how he allowed it to happen. Although for that question he had no answer. He had stopped wondering, and finally Obito admitted he was glad he had allowed it.

That constant motion subtly transformed into something else, which none of them noticed until Obito became aware of the frenetic pace at which his hips moved.

"T-tobi ...! Mmmh, Tobi, if you f-fucking stop... I will blow you up... hmmm!" Deidara cried as his fingers tightened on the surface of the table, each thrust shaking his body to the sound of his moans, and that of skin crashing against skin.

Obito gripped Deidara's buttocks hard, prompted by his words.

"I won't stop... I don't want to stop... Nngh... Never..."

Never...

He needed that, he needed him...

It was Deidara who started flirting, some time back. And now Obito couldn't get enough of him.

"You're perfect," he added, very quietly, because his senpai would have argued, but he needed to say it, because at that moment he couldn't think of another word to define him other than that "Deidara-senpai..."

A wave of pleasure he couldn't control forced him to close his eyes, making his body shake, a moan slipped past his lips, hoarse from taking a while pounding into Deidara without rest. His pleasure intensified when he felt Deidara was coming to, just as he ejaculated inside him, his nails digging harder onto the flesh of his butt. Little by little, their moans were transformed again into gasps, and they looked at each other, spent, exhausted, dirty from head to toe. Deidara winked at him and he smiled, knowing at that moment that the feeling of satiety wouldn't last long.

He leaned back next to him, pulling him to his body and making him roll his eyes.

"Really, Tobi? Here at the table?"

He already knew that after having sex, Obito felt all cuddly no matter where they were. And if the comfort of the place wasn't Deidara's liking, he had to do something about it.

"Then, get on top of me," he said.

And without waiting for his answer, he pulled him to him to make him lean his head on his chest, his body well attached to his, one hand around his shoulders and the other stroking his back slowly, up and down. In such moments, Deidara never protested, he had already learned that his mind needed to recover.

Obito always fantasized about that location, and that day it finally happened, in that workshop for which so many other artists had passed. At one end, there was still the bookshelf, full of scrolls with scribbles only understandable to the mind of a scientist. They had been there since Orochimaru left the organization, artist of human genetics, misunderstood, but knowing things as surprising as macabre. Raising dust in another corner were boxes and stacked boxes full of wooden arms and legs, wigs shaped by strands of hair, plastic containers filled with eyeballs of all colors, all of which had belonged to Sasori. None of those things had an owner now, but Deidara was his. Obito wasn't an artist, although that day he felt like one. He thought he would put that workshop to good use in the future.

Obito held him closer to him, smiling, as he mused for the umpteenth time what was and where did that strange way of loving come from. He wondered where those feelings as strong as a hurricane were going to drag them both, knowing too well he wouldn't renounce to Deidara now, whatever it cost him, and most alarmingly, without remorse. Because he could no longer live without him. Without his artist, his lover. His obsession.


End file.
